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I’m a pretty artful dodger when it comes to seeing bad movies, for which I’ve always found life far too short. But every now and then I’ll enter the terrordome for something that looks interesting, if not good, especially when said something looks to be a talker or a moneymaker. I weigh in when asked to.

So I didn’t see enough truly rancid turkeys to fill a worst-of list for 2012, and for that I am eternally grateful to all responsible parties. But I did come up with five major disappointments, some merely drab, others bad enough to make me want to stab myself in the neck with my pen well before the lights went up. Without further adieu, my 2012 dishonor roll, in alphabetical order.

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter – Here’s a movie that cries out to be weird, to shake a stake and seriously monkey with a revered historical icon. Instead we get a muddled mix of historical shading, torpid plotting and humdrum horror action. Too much charity, not enough malice.

Cloud Atlas – I’m not a cynic, but my tolerance for silliness was overwhelmed by this New Age race-and-gender-bending, we’re-all-the-same-soul balderdash. Cloud Atlas is the winner in my “Does This Really Have to be Three Hours Long?” sweepstakes. And that’s the true-true.

Rock of Ages – Confession: I like a a lot of the songs used in this hard rock musical. They remind me of my metallic youth. So thanks, Adam Shankman, for this tinny, poorly acted tribute to the Southern California hair metal days. Even the cheese, the film’s main ingredient, tastes stale.

This is 40 – By no means a total disaster, but after Knocked Up I expected a lot more from Judd Apatow’s midlife crisis dramedy. Apatow is extremely loyal and generous to his bit players, so much so that he lets them riff and riff and riff as the laughs turn to strained grins and the story disappears beneath the schtick. I won’t say no comedy should be 135 minutes long, but this one needed about 30 minutes taken off the top. Added bonus: new meaning to the phrase “First World Problems.”

To Rome With Love – I’m baffled by the grading curve that comes into play when Woody Allen makes a bad movie, which, sadly, has been all too often the last several years. Rome is among his worst, a lazy shambles of failed bits masquerading as a romantic travelogue. Somehow it still got a fair share of good reviews from fans who prefer a Woody dud to the average anonymous misfire.

I hated Woody Allen’s To Rome With Love, mostly because I love Woody Allen. Few if any filmmakers have given me as much pleasure over the years or helped form my sense of humor. When he falls – and he’s fallen often the past 15 years – it hurts. Consider this list an attempt to remember the Woody that was, and when your favorite is left out of the top 5, remind yourself just how prolific the man has been.

5. Love and Death – This is my representative from the “early, funny ones,” as the aliens in Stardust Memories framed Woody’s first period. Any such Woody list needs one of these. Russian literature meets subversive Borscht Belt yuks. Fields of wheat. Sleeper or Bananas could easily take this spot.

4. Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989) – The most perfect fusion of Woody’s comedic and tragic impulses, it’s the thematic template for the stiffer Match Point‘s considerations of crime and punishment, and the most fully developed result of his spiritual ennui. Alan Alda makes for a golden boor, and Martin Landau is sublime.

3. Hannah and Her Sisters (1986) – The writerly Woody goes Chekhov and directs two supporting players – Michael Caine and Diane Wiest – to Oscar wins. Plus, he finally gets to work with his Bergman hero, Max von Sydow. “I don’t sell my work by the yard!”

2. Manhattan (1979) – Cinematographer Gordon Willis captures a New York that exists only in the romantic imagination. Woody gives us a bittersweet examination of love’s fickle nature. Oh yeah: there’s also Meryl Streep.

1. Annie Hall – The fluid movement from reality to fantasy and back, from past to present, makes for comedy magic. The study of how a relationship slowly perishes – “What we got on our hands is a dead shark” – is quietly heartbreaking. Annie Hall provides the rare thrill of a seeing a filmmaker grow up in style.